


It's not that he wasn't loved

by BlueRam



Category: Hellboy (Movies), Hellboy - All Media Types, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Consort Loki, Implied Mpreg, Infertility, Infidelity, Loki and Thor Are Not Related, Loki does not see Thor in the romantic light, M/M, Miscarriage, Misunderstandings, Mpreg, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, Odin (Marvel)'s Bad Parenting, Sexual Content, Thor pines after something that never was, one-sided Thor/Loki - Freeform, talks of abortion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 23:05:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14223774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueRam/pseuds/BlueRam
Summary: “What is this I hear, Father? Is it true these rumours? Is it true that Loki will be married off to some weak Midgardian filth?!”





	It's not that he wasn't loved

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OnceABlueMoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceABlueMoon/gifts).



It’s not that he wasn’t loved, Loki thought as he stared from the lone window of the highest tower that stood above the courtyard. He watched as Thor golden and ever shining roared in mock rage as he tackled his friend Volstagg. The man bellowed like a bull who had lost its fight against man, red hair unkempt for the time being caught in the small crevices of his armour. The rest of the warrior three gathered around them, raucous laughter echoing in the air as Lady Sif watched them with feigned disdain, a shadow of a smile at the corner of her lips.

Happy. They were so happy. Content in the knowledge that they were everything Asgard had ever asked for, Thor especially. The golden prince who would usher in a new age Asgardian locals would whisper, stars in their eyes and hearts filled with expectations and love. Thor didn’t know what he had, couldn’t hope to fathom what he had, so self-assured in his place in Asgard. Arrogant…as much as he was kind.

“Loki, come child. We have no time to waste, your performance before the Bethmora delegation is all that stands before the war that lingers at our borders, war our people know nothing of,” Frigga’s voice was soft but unyielding. Even if her pretty blue eyes clouded with guilt and perhaps a touch shame for the burden she would place on the second child of her heart

It’s not that he wasn’t loved, Loki thought again as he tucked a lock of dark hair behind his ear as Thor glanced up from the Courtyard, grinning ear to ear when he saw his…well, no, Thor wasn’t his brother. Waving like the ridiculous ape he was at Loki before being hauled away by his group of friends for an adventure in the City’s market.

Young maidens giggled, hunger and lust clear in their eyes, gaze on Thor’s from. Calculating gleams for every swagger of thick thighs and mud-caked armour, bellowing laughs escaping from the depths of Thor’s belly.

It’s not that he wasn’t loved, but more that he was different and those who were different had always had the misfortune of bearing burdens and responsibilities that no one should.

He...He was an anomaly in Asgard. Snow pale skin and hair darker than midnight. A sharp tongue and less than sunny disposition. Wiry and thin where Asgard worshipped bulk and obvious physical strength as opposed to his subtle and more...strategic strength. 

He for all he was the second Asgardian prince, he was not the Asgardian prince of the people’s hearts. He wasn’t loved. He was thought of with cold disdain, one that only grew with his pension for trickery and poisoned honey words.

Yet, in but a few minutes he would watch as his father bargained his hand for peace with the Bethmora Clan. In a few minutes, as Thor was allowed to remain free and frolic with his friends endear himself to their people and seek another war to fight on a distant land, he would have to play the part of a perfectly eligible consort. One that must please the enemy Asgard had never foreseen being a race that called Midgard home.

“They say the prince, this Nuada of the Bethroma clan, that he is cruel and wicked-” Loki’s smile was bitter as finally stepped away from the window, allowing the tower’s shadows to cloak his figure like an old friend.

“They say many things. Some truth, some untruth some yet to be defined, “Frigga folded her hands before her, head held high, content that Loki remained in step with her.

“How uncharacteristic of you mother, I’ve never known you to lie!” Loki’s smirk was absolutely wicked and if it were not for the warm light in his eyes Frigga would have thought he was mocking her as he often did Thor and Odin alike. Frigga did not hide her snort, lips pulled in an equally wicked smile.

“Merely by omission. Can I be blamed for what you decide to take away from my statements? I dare say not, as vague as they are,” The light in her eyes faded as they arrived at the grand hall, guards tilting their heads in deference to the Al-Mother and the younger Prince. Loki could see that she was troubled her shoulders tense and head slightly bowed.

“Mother?”

“Know that-know that I love you Loki! I’ve always loved you,” She whispered gently tracing high cheekbones.

“But not enough to sacrifice Thor in lieu of me. Not enough where I won’t be forced to marry Prince Nuada should he have me and leave Asgard for the barbaric lands of Midgard!”

“Loki,” Frigga whispered softly, eyes glistening with so much emotion that Loki couldn’t hope to comprehend. What he could understand from her watery blue eyes was deep shame and sadness mixed with an unshakeable guilt. Loki, at that moment, had to look away, a bitter taste in his mouth, hands clenched tight enough that his nails bit into the palms of his hands.

“It’s the truth, is it not? You love me but that doesn’t erase the cold truth that as much as you do, I will always be the Jotun runt who falls short amidst the true might of your blood son.” He couldn’t help the bitter sneer as he stepped further away from his mother.

“It’s not that I am unloved, mother, it’s merely that I am not loved enough. Not when I’m not of your blood, not when I am Jotun, Asgard’s most despised enemy—not when I’m merely the chess piece I’ve always been to Odin.”  Despite knowing the truth, Loki’s heart dropped at Frigga’s silence, the weight of his own words heavy on his shoulders.

“There was a time when you were first brought to me wailing and still covered in the lifeblood of your dam, so blue and oh so small. A babe born at the tail end of a war that raged for years, a war that saw Jotun momentarily brought to heel, its unwanted prince held captive against my bosom. I looked down at you and saw you for what you were then. You would be the piece that would keep Jotunheim under Asgard’s heel. You were unwanted but you were the little that was left of Jotunheim’s royal blood.” Frigga frowned before staring directly into light green eyes, imagining crimson in their place.

“Odin would will you betrothed to Thor. You would be joined by blood right on the eve of your coming of age, your virgin blood spilt on animal furs and white sheets…Thor’s progeny in your womb.” Almost remorseful, Frigga reached out for Loki, trembling when he allowed her touch, his soft skin warm against the palm of her hand.

“Of course, they would never be heirs, Odin would have it that Thor would take another bride, but you carrying Thor’s child would further cement Asgard’s hold on Jotunheim. After all, one of Jotunheim royal blood would have been defiled and conquered in the sacred mating bed.” Frigga willed her tears away as she held Loki’s cheeks between her hands. She did not care for the guards who politely looked away, or the procession that waited for them behind towering doors to seal Loki’s fate.

Her _son’s_ fate no matter what Odin thought, no matter how Thor as much as he adored Loki thought of him as the ward of his father that didn’t bear the mark of the traditional warrior.

“It was your fate until now, even if you did not know it, or perhaps you did, and now your fate has changed and you could be given freedom on Midgard. You were a chess piece and now you are Odin’s desperate attempt to save Asgard from the enemy we were too arrogant to see.” Loki swallowed tight around the lump that formed in his throat, unwilling to let his tears spill as Frigga gently pulled him against her.

“Despite this, you would be a fool to think my love for you any less than the love I have for Thor. Thor couldn’t hope to survive the war that you will fight, the one that you will conquer with your husband at your heel. Nuada is said to be cruel, to be callous and powerful, but what does he have that cannot be matched by you? My precious Loki,” Frigga’s words were but a whisper, but they were heard nevertheless.

“Mother, it’s time. They wait, my... could be husband from little we know does not seem to be a patient man,” Loki managed a crooked smile, even if it was tainted with sadness and an understanding he wished he never had. They both straightened themselves, squaring their shoulders as they walked in sync, arms folded and hidden in their sleeves.

* * *

It was quicker than Loki expected, lacklustre really. He had presented himself as if a new princess to a foreign court, the weight of judging eyes heavy on his form and Odin’s cold disregard. Contrary to his previous thoughts, the so-called Prince Nuada was a no-show, instead who stood in his place was his sister with her much too gentle smile and innocent eyes.

She greeted him with a soft cultured voice, her party to her back as she unabashedly took in his form. For a moment he thought he saw pity in her eyes as she silently nodded to her party and then with admirable grace turned to Odin.

“It would be best that he assumes his natural born skin when presented to our crown prince. My King father and our elders would have it no other way. Our people would have it no other way,” Every word perfectly enounced, syllables cultured and strange with her heavy accent. Loki almost forgot to be offended at the thought that she would treat him as a mere toy without thought or tongue to speak.

“And your prince?” Odin glared down at the elven princess. He still could not understand how these elves who had so long remained mere shadows of the past could possible threatened to destroy all that Asgard was. He was no fool, he had heeded Heimdall warning, the guardian seeing futures and possibilities that all spoke of Asgard’s defeat unless he gave in, built an alliance with the Bethroma clan. A clan that had forged alliances with a significant amount of Asgard’s potential enemies and indifferent neighbours, neighbours that if they rose together could greatly weaken Asgard’s string hold.

He could not allow it!

He glanced at Loki who stood with his head tall, raven locks falling over his shoulders and expression unreadable. He stood with dignity, stood like Frigga his much-loved queen, with carefully held power hidden behind the façade of a delicate disposition. A disposition Thor had never been able to see past in his arrogance.

This new alliance with Bethroma clan through Loki’s marriage to their crown prince endangered his plans for Jotunheim. Contrary to popular belief, the Jotun’s hands were only stilled because Loki was held captive by Asgard. A secret no one knew as Loki’s true lineage He had no doubt that if war should come to their doorstep, Jotun would be defeated but with their defeat, would come the loss of too many Asgardian lives.

He had had his fair share of wars that would spill Asgardian blood, too much Asgardian blood when there were other strategic ways to defeat an enemy.

Strategies rendered null and void with Loki’s removal from Asgard.

“That is all,” The Princess smiled, ignoring Odin’s question as she turned away from him, golden robes fluttering behind her as she made to leave with her party at her back. She stopped beside Loki, that strange pitting smile back in place as she looked into light green eyes.

“I—it will be an honour to have you as my consort brother for the foreseeable future, Loki of Jotunheim, son of the All-mother, Frigga.” Before Loki could utter a word she was gone, footsteps echoing.

The woman was confusing was Loki’s only thought, even as Thor suddenly burst through the hall doors, raging mad the warriors three at his back and Lady Sif who wore a most troubling expression.

“What is this I hear, Father? Is it true these rumours? Is it true that Loki will be married off to some weak Midgardian filth?!”

**Author's Note:**

> I found this just laying on my laptop while I was mourning the fact that I'm still too ill to be writing what I really want to be writing. So, I decided to share it instead of leaving it to rot. I guess if there is enough interest in it I'll continue. *shrug* Alos, i'm gifting this to you Blue-Blue!


End file.
